


A Loss In Love That Touches Me More Nearly

by sicktodeathoflogic



Category: Murdoch Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Angst, post 8x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2457224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicktodeathoflogic/pseuds/sicktodeathoflogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily has an encounter that makes her realize what is truly important. Short and sweet fluff and angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Loss In Love That Touches Me More Nearly

**Author's Note:**

> In a desperate need for some Emily/George reconciliation in the show, as well as some more fics centered around this couple, I wrote this in two hours. Very fluffy. Hints/spoilers for 8x02.
> 
> The title is a line from Sonnet 42 by William Shakespeare.

Emily makes her way back to her home in Toronto, breathing in the cool night air and smiling wistfully to herself. They had won. The suffragettes would keep fighting, and though there were few, their spirit could fill thousands. She stops at her door and fumbles with the keys inside her clutch purse. A sound startles her, and she snaps her head up, body instantly alert. The noise was akin to a misplaced footstep of someone not wanting to be seen. Feeling dread build in her abdomen, Emily tries to open her door with haste. Carelessly, she drops her keys on the front step, and quickly she turns and bends over to retrieve them. When she is again upright, she is face to face with a man she never wants to meet in the dark.

Leslie Garland.

“Good evening, Emily.” His cat-like smile gleams in the night, and Emily bristles.

She composes herself and clutches the keys with a force that turns her knuckles white. “Mr. Garland.”

“I suppose you know I have been relieved of my position,” he states casually, as if they were good friends chatting about the weather, and not two former companions meeting alone in the dark. He moves a little closer to her, and Emily shrinks back despite herself.

Emily’s eyes drift up and down the street, hoping for someone to come and save her, if not be witness to what may happen. “I am aware, yes.”

Garland smiles again, the same smile that drew Emily to him that day on the beach, before she and George – Emily stops. How she wishes George was here now. He had always been there to protect her, even if she knew deep down it was not always necessary.

As the silence between them grows, Emily thinks again of the suffragette movement. George is not there, nor was he likely to be. She needs to live by her own words and be strong. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Garland, I must go – ”

A hand grabs her arm tightly. “Did you really think,” Garland rasps between his teeth, “that I would just let you and that whore of a doctor besmirch my good name?” Emily attempts to pry his hand off her arm and yells “Let go!” over his speech.

They wrangle in the darkness, a mix of limbs and grunts and Emily is still shouting for him to stop but no one seems to hear her or care. Garland lets off a few insults about her virtue, but Emily is too busy fighting back. Finally, she grasps the keys between her fingers and lands a blow to Garland’s stomach. He recoils instantly, one hand clutching the wound and the other steadying himself. Before he has a chance to recover, Emily runs. She runs as fast as her skirts and boots allow and gasps for air in a more crowded street. She sees a constable and manages to let out a few incoherent phrases to him before the shock, exhaustion, and the corset she was wearing take their toll. Emily collapses in the lane.

* * *

 

When she wakes, Emily recognizes her surroundings as Inspector Brackenreid’s office. Someone had put her on the small futon and given her a blanket. Sitting up, she is dizzy and her head aches immensely. She clutches at her temple and begins to rub her eyes. She does not hear someone enter the room until the door shuts softly next to her.

Emily looks up and is relieved to see a friendly face. “Detective Murdoch.”

“Doctor Grace,” he replies amiably, worry clouding some of his features. “I trust you are feeling better?”

She nods. “Although,” she adds, “would it be too much to ask for a glass of water?” Murdoch returns momentarily from the Inspector’s drinks cabinet. The cool liquid gives Emily instant aid for her head, and after a moment she sets the glass aside, letting Murdoch know she is ready for his questions.

“What happened to you?” he asks bluntly.

Emily feels her cheeks burn slightly. “Did the constable not tell you?”

“He said something about an assault, but no more.” Murdoch pauses. “He said you were rather out of breath at the time.”

She laughs, although she does not mean for it to sound so hollow. Murdoch notices. “Leslie Garland followed me to my house,” Emily states clinically. “When I attempted to leave, he grabbed me. I escaped.”

Murdoch’s eyes darken. “Did he – ” He leaves the question hanging in the air.

Emily opens her mouth to respond, but the loud entrance of George Crabtree interrupts her. He comes into the room like a gust of wind, eyes frantically searching for Emily’s until he finds them, and then just as swiftly he kneels beside her. “Are you alright?” he asks, the desperation evident in his voice and his hands grasping her shoulders. “What happened?”

“George,” Murdoch scolds softly from his chair, “I am getting Doctor Grace’s statem—”

“Who did this to you?” George continues, oblivious to his superior’s warning.

Emily looks first to Murdoch for permission. He nods. “Mr. Garland came – ”

“He what?!” George is suddenly furious. “Did he harm you, Emily? Tell me the truth.”

Murdoch lays his hand on George’s shoulder, calming him. “I was just asking her that when you came in, George.”

Emily takes a moment to feel less overwhelmed. Then she responds with a short, “No. He did not violate me.”

The two men visibly relax, but George is still concerned. “He needs to be arrested.”

Murdoch stands and straightens his suit jacket. “I agree. I think Mr. Garland has been allowed to harass people for far too long. First Julia and now this…” He stops. Emily does not want to ask what happened to Julia now. And then he leaves, meeting Julia outside the office door. She smiles and waves to Emily and she waves back. Murdoch then takes Julia into his office, obviously to discuss Mr. Garland’s potential arrest.

It suddenly occurs to Emily that she and George are alone, something that has not happened since their relationship’s end months before. He realizes it too, and he awkwardly stands up from his haunches and moves Murdoch’s chair closer so he can face Emily on the futon.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks again, his voice sad.

Emily forces a smile. “Yes.” And then something comes over her that she cannot quite explain. There is a wave of emotion that crashes inside her, one of sadness and regret, but mostly fear. She is afraid of Leslie Garland and what he might do; after all she had wronged him not so differently from Julia. Will he haunt her too? Before she can stop them, Emily’s tears spill from her eyes. She automatically covers her face with her hands. No one should see her like this.

She cannot see him behind her hands, but George moves to the futon and wraps his arms around Emily’s frame. Emily lets him, and she cries until she finally says, “I’m scared.”

She feels George stiffen. “If he ever hurts you again,” George says quietly into her hair, “I’ll kill him.”

“George!”

“I mean it, Emily,” George continues, cupping her face with one hand. Emily’s heart swells when he uses her first name again. “I don’t care if I hang. Nothing could be a better reason have the noose.”

Emily wipes her eyes and pulls herself out of his embrace. George has a pained expression, but Emily needs to look him in the eyes. “I care,” she states. “I always have. And I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner.”

George brightens, his lopsided grin plastered on his face. “I’m sorry, too!” he returns excitedly. “I should have accepted your apology long ago. I hope you’ll…” he fumbles for words, “forgive me for that.”

In response, Emily throws her arms around George’s neck. He reciprocates, but before they can go any further, they hear a feigned groan at the door.

“Bloody hell, Crabtree,” Brackenreid admonishes sarcastically. “Don’t just sit there. Garland’s been apprehended. He was stumbling around in an alley, with considerable wounds to him. I think we have you to thank for that, Doctor Grace,” he adds fondly. He turns to Crabtree. “Take the Doctor home, for Pete’s sake!”

“Yes, sir!”


End file.
